“We are hundred percenters!” I could usually hear this barking from my father’s mouth while he grabbed my shoulders and dived in with a scratchy peck on the cheek. In the midst of my childish angst, sadness, and anxiety, he fired out this saying to me with an obvious but unclear attempt to motivate me. I never understood what this meant. Heck what did I care? What did he know? That father of mine sure showed me. That smart and motivating tough guy shared with me one of the most important pieces of wisdom I could ever have received.
My father, tough and stubborn, while also kind, giving, and extremely loving, always gave me mixed feelings. I feared my father’s tall stature and deep voice. He expected the best from me and held me responsible for my own mistakes and choices. Using that voice, insulting, loud, and only attainable by a trained serviceman, instilled in me one of the strongest work ethics that could possibly be scared into somebody, while simultaneously teaching me how to be goofy and love living in the moment.
When I was younger, I was used to seeing my father's motivation in threatening yells and scary seriousness. On weekends and after school, I had a list of responsibilities that needed to be taken care of and they were my job to be finished, or else. My dad had always scared me into using one hundred percent of myself. Whether I was pulling weeds or folding the laundry, I was to do it the right way and if not, I was to be punished and talked to about "the ways of life" or "consequences of laziness". Making a mistake was a serious no-no. My father would speak in a tone of voice that could define disappointment and it was to be avoided at all costs. Therefore, as a young girl, I worked my butt off to avoid trouble with my father. It wasn't until I was older that I started to understand my father's metaphors and sayings. I began to view them as lessons to learn rather than lectures to avoid.
In my senior year of high school, my father experienced a number of setbacks that made his wisdom skyrocket. I was always weary of what my father told me. I never knew if he was simply being a hard-ass or if he was attempting to teach me something. As he went through painful trips to the hospital, life-threatening procedures, and all kinds of emotional stress, his sharp and painful life lessons soon became soft and understandable. Never once, as the long summer days passed, did he complain or show personal defeat. My father, a man who knowingly brushed hands with death, spent countless hours with me every day laughing, joking, and reminiscing. His sudden lifestyle change never destroyed his will to enjoy life or relish every moment he had. Although his situation was dark and potentially depressing, he had the ability to find energy and happiness.Without my father putting one hundred percent of himself into getting better he may have never recovered. It was finally dawning on me why my father really forced the hard work motto. He may have softened up a bit, but he couldn't accept minimum effort. His life was quite literally on the line, and minimum effort would never get him through. Strong will like his made me realize that making attempts is the most important part of life. His annoying "to-do" lists and after-school responsibilities were lessons in effort. He was preparing me for potential moments like his in my adult life. Now, every moment I ever want to give up, my father's voice has popped into my head questioning me, "are you REALLY trying? Or just whining about not wanting to try?" My father's commendable mind-set and will inspire me every day to be better than I think I can.
His strength and perseverance in his situation gave me an epiphany about my own beliefs. What I believed to be a lame saying over the years was really my father’s one conviction about life: Put one hundred percent of yourself into everything and you will be satisfied. He pushed me for brilliance; he pushed me towards everything that I thought was ridiculous and unattainable. He set the bar for excellence, even in his most trying moments. My father never gave half of himself, so I thought, “why should I?” In months that passed my first year of college, I didn't believe it was the lifestyle for me. I was unhappy socially and felt unchallenged academically. I wanted to drop out, I was depressed and extremely lonely. I thought back to my father's necessity for effort and immediately went to him for advice. My dad encouraged me to pull through and venture out of strict college life. He pushed me to think positively and to look for new opportunities. I applied for jobs and even looked for events that could bring a smile to my face. Now, I strive for the best in my classes and work hard at my jobs. I finish tasks that make me groan inside and go the extra mile because it makes me feel better. I now find satisfaction in what I do and if it weren't for my dad's encouraging motivation, I may have not returned for a second year of college.
In me, he instilled a strong work ethic. Every moment that I walk into situations thinking, “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this”, I think of my father’s deep voice, keeping me at attention. Although there have been moments where I have technically failed at one hundred percent, I have never failed in giving all of my effort. My father would love to take responsibility for this, but he would love even more for me to say that I am responsible for all of my one hundred percent effort. His wisdom, standards, and own feats guided my beliefs about learning and experiencing life and I could not be happier to say that I have a well-grounded role model/father.
My father, tough and stubborn, while also kind, giving, and extremely loving, always gave me mixed feelings. I feared my father’s tall stature and deep voice. He expected the best from me and held me responsible for my own mistakes and choices. Using that voice, insulting, loud, and only attainable by a trained serviceman, instilled in me one of the strongest work ethics that could possibly be scared into somebody, while simultaneously teaching me how to be goofy and love living in the moment.
When I was younger, I was used to seeing my father's motivation in threatening yells and scary seriousness. On weekends and after school, I had a list of responsibilities that needed to be taken care of and they were my job to be finished, or else. My dad had always scared me into using one hundred percent of myself. Whether I was pulling weeds or folding the laundry, I was to do it the right way and if not, I was to be punished and talked to about "the ways of life" or "consequences of laziness". Making a mistake was a serious no-no. My father would speak in a tone of voice that could define disappointment and it was to be avoided at all costs. Therefore, as a young girl, I worked my butt off to avoid trouble with my father. It wasn't until I was older that I started to understand my father's metaphors and sayings. I began to view them as lessons to learn rather than lectures to avoid.
In my senior year of high school, my father experienced a number of setbacks that made his wisdom skyrocket. I was always weary of what my father told me. I never knew if he was simply being a hard-ass or if he was attempting to teach me something. As he went through painful trips to the hospital, life-threatening procedures, and all kinds of emotional stress, his sharp and painful life lessons soon became soft and understandable. Never once, as the long summer days passed, did he complain or show personal defeat. My father, a man who knowingly brushed hands with death, spent countless hours with me every day laughing, joking, and reminiscing. His sudden lifestyle change never destroyed his will to enjoy life or relish every moment he had. Although his situation was dark and potentially depressing, he had the ability to find energy and happiness. Without my father putting one hundred percent of himself into getting better he may have never recovered. It was finally dawning on me why my father really forced the hard work motto. He may have softened up a bit, but he couldn't accept minimum effort. His life was quite literally on the line, and minimum effort would never get him through. Strong will like his made me realize that making attempts is the most important part of life. His annoying "to-do" lists and after-school responsibilities were lessons in effort. He was preparing me for potential moments like his in my adult life. Now, every moment I ever want to give up, my father's voice has popped into my head questioning me, "are you REALLY trying? Or just whining about not wanting to try?" My father's commendable mind-set and will inspire me every day to be better than I think I can.
His strength and perseverance in his situation gave me an epiphany about my own beliefs. What I believed to be a lame saying over the years was really my father’s one conviction about life: Put one hundred percent of yourself into everything and you will be satisfied. He pushed me for brilliance; he pushed me towards everything that I thought was ridiculous and unattainable. He set the bar for excellence, even in his most trying moments. My father never gave half of himself, so I thought, “why should I?” In months that passed my first year of college, I didn't believe it was the lifestyle for me. I was unhappy socially and felt unchallenged academically. I wanted to drop out, I was depressed and extremely lonely. I thought back to my father's necessity for effort and immediately went to him for advice. My dad encouraged me to pull through and venture out of strict college life. He pushed me to think positively and to look for new opportunities. I applied for jobs and even looked for events that could bring a smile to my face. Now, I strive for the best in my classes and work hard at my jobs. I finish tasks that make me groan inside and go the extra mile because it makes me feel better. I now find satisfaction in what I do and if it weren't for my dad's encouraging motivation, I may have not returned for a second year of college.
In me, he instilled a strong work ethic. Every moment that I walk into situations thinking, “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this”, I think of my father’s deep voice, keeping me at attention. Although there have been moments where I have technically failed at one hundred percent, I have never failed in giving all of my effort. My father would love to take responsibility for this, but he would love even more for me to say that I am responsible for all of my one hundred percent effort. His wisdom, standards, and own feats guided my beliefs about learning and experiencing life and I could not be happier to say that I have a well-grounded role model/father.